Strange Magic
by BaconWaffle2016
Summary: For goddesses, to receive a love confession is almost a given. At her most graceful, a goddess will politely reject such passions, choosing instead a typical immortal life of chastity and piety. At her cruelest, a goddess will take advantage of such emotions, especially if the one who loves her is of use to her. Elizabeth is neither cruel, nor graceful. "S-s-stupid demon!"
1. Strange Magic

Welp for anyone who has seen me on AO3, here is a thing. A thing that is sort of a flash-forward of _I Will Never Be Your Friend_ , and a pre-canon experiment? Whether this will become part of the main fic, or the start of a completely different one, is yet to be seen.

But anywho, gotta do one of these thingies.

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Seven Deadly Sins. Nor do I make any profit from this fic. I also don't own Terry Pratchett's _Discworld_ stories or his characters―two of which are alluded to here. (You'll see.)**

Enjoy~

* * *

'I have stayed these years in my hovel because of you. I have taught myself languages because of you. I have made my body strong because I thought you might be pleased by a strong body. I have lived my life with only the prayer that some sudden dawn you might glance in my direction. I have not known a moment in years when the sight of you did not send my heart careening against my rib cage. I have not known a night when your visage did not accompany me to sleep. There has not been a morning when you did not flutter behind my waking eyelids….Is any of this getting through to you, Buttercup, or do you want me to go on for a while?'

― **William Goldman** , **The Princess Bride**

* * *

They are fighting, which is not a surprise in of itself. Even after Elizabeth started building this weird little bridge between them, after _years_ of fighting him again and again, she and Meliodas still tended to bicker. That has not changed just because he's decided to ally himself with the Goddess Clan, as well as the other clans. If anything, it has only gotten worse.

It's Elizabeth's fault this time, she will admit that, if only in her own mind. Yesterday's battle with the demons had been longer and harder than most, especially with some of the Commandments there to lead the battalions, and Elizabeth didn't make all the smartest decisions then. While she defeated many demons on the battlefield, she also tried to do too much, to save too many people with her healing abilities. This led to a confrontation with Estarossa, who decided to be particularly sadistic and hateful that day—easily taking advantage of her weariness and "bleeding heart", as he'd sneered.

He had stabbed at her side and kicked her down, leaving Elizabeth to glare up at him, her teeth clenched in pain. With a cold grin, he lifted his sword to deliver the finishing blow—

Only to clash with Meliodas' sword—Meliodas, who was in a rage as his darkness swirled around him, inking his skin—and Elizabeth felt her shoulders sag in relief and a deep affection that has overwhelmed her these past few years, an emotion only focused on him. The fight didn't last long then, not with Meliodas' fighting experience and Estarossa's maddening rage at his brother's still-fresh betrayal, and before Elizabeth realized it, she was back in the Goddess realm, being healed and put on bed rest for the day.

By this afternoon, Elizabeth was all healed up and ready to fight another day—which would be a while, thankfully, but still—and while everyone approached her, glad that she was still breathing, Meliodas made sure to avoid her at all cost. His mouth was drawn down into a deep scowl all day, his eyes storming between coal black and forest green, dwelling on a conflict that left him simmering. Whenever Elizabeth tried speaking to him, he threw her a glare and walked the other way, disappearing somewhere to do—whatever he did whenever he got angry, these days. That in turn left her not only angry, but hurt; like someone had stabbed into her chest and left the knife there.

But like any fight between Elizabeth and Meliodas, it doesn't take long for it to come full boil—

"—Stubborn demon!"

"Oh, you are one to talk, _goddess_!"

—which has led to now, where they are screaming at each other inside her study. Faces red with anger, eyes flaring into each other, and their respective powers sparking ominously from their fingers.

At this point, Elizabeth isn't sure what they're arguing about anymore. Yeah, okay, she was stupid yesterday. She knows that. But she's _always_ been like that, even when she used to lead her own battalion against him and the Ten Commandments. That hasn't changed, not even with Meliodas becoming her friend and battle partner—which is good, because Elizabeth knows that a big reason she's still alive is because he always saves her (which may or may not make her heart flutter _a lot_ ). Why is that bothering him now?

In her frustration, Elizabeth decides to ask him, leaving him gaping at her in shock, perhaps even affronted, before he roars his answer to her.

"Because _I'm in love with you_ , you idiot of a goddess!"

Elizabeth freezes, nearly choking on her retort. She blinks wide blue eyes and stares at Meliodas, who is snarling at her, his mark in full bloom and eyes black but alight. Once again, Elizabeth feels his eyes pierce her like fire, and her heart hammers against her chest.

"W-w-what…?" She squeaks. Because, really, she must have heard wrong…?

But Meliodas goes on with his rant, not seeming to realize yet what he just said, his gestures almost violent as he glowers into her.

"I mean, really, did you think I just betrayed my own clan on...on, on a fucking whim?! _No_ , it was all for _you_ , you crazy, incredible...AGH!" He throws his head back and roars up at the ceiling, his hands clenching on either side of his head. " _Why, of all people, does it have to be_ _ **you**_!"

Elizabeth is now full on gaping at him, her silver hair still frazzled and eyes wide. _What._

"—but do you care?" Meliodas lets out a bitter, rather mad laugh, threading a hand through his hair, and chokes out, " _No_ , of course not. You just throw yourself in front of danger again and _again_ and _again_ —"

Her mouth opens and closes, but Elizabeth can't make a sound except maybe a choked squeak. She finds herself leaning back against the desk behind her, nearly sitting on it, her eyes glued to Meliodas. Her hands clench around the edge, the wood biting into her skin. Seriously, what is going on right now?

Meliodas whips to glare at her, and he strides toward her, still very lost in his...wrath? Elizabeth sees the anger in his eyes, but there's something else too. Something she's seen in his gaze before, but couldn't really name, was often too afraid to name as she got caught under the scrutiny, her face aflame and heart pounding. Something beyond warm, deeper than any emotion ever directed at her, intense and piercing and heart stopping and _Holy. Crap._

"Why couldn't you be more selfish, just a little cowardly enough to think about your own safety? Why do you have to be the kind of person who sacrifices for others, even if you get hurt, _or worse_? Even for those who don't ask to be saved?"

Meliodas doesn't stop until he's in front of her, the anger merging with a deep sorrow that makes Elizabeth ache, even through her confusion. He tips his face towards hers, until their foreheads are near brushing, his eyes searing into hers.

"Don't you ever think," he asks, his voice low and raw, "of those you could leave behind? Those who love you?"

Elizabeth swallows in her dry throat, still feeling frozen, even with the blush flooding her cheeks and her heart pulsing in a fury. Because, _crap_ , what does she do here? He's too close, so warm, and her heart is too loud, and the sudden _want_ to touch him hits her. There is too much going on, too much for such a rough day, and _Oh god, oh god, he's getting closer, oh geez, I'm so not ready_ —

Just as Elizabeth closes her eyes briefly, not sure what to expect, Meliodas wraps his arms around her and embraces her. His cheek is against hers, oddly cool compared to the burn under skin; while the touch isn't unwelcome, it does nothing for her fluster. Elizabeth takes in shallow breaths, her eyes open half-mast and clouded, and she lifts one hand from the desk to grasp his shoulder.

"M-Meliodas…?"

"...A minute," he says near her ear, his voice soft and warm, and _That is really not helping, aaaah_. Meliodas turns his head to nuzzle her neck, inhaling and exhaling a shuddering breath and _Yep, I'm dying._ "Please, Elizabeth, just a minute."

Elizabeth squeaks a little but doesn't push him off, even as his hands stroke her back, fingers brushing her wings. Her mind rages with confusion and more than a little anxiety. Again, Elizabeth blushes but then leans into the other shoulder, not caring about the stains in his clothes or the remnant smell of their recent battle with the Commandments.

Meliodas has never held her like this, is usually hesitant to instigate contact at all; even when Elizabeth hugs him...which, okay she admits, is a lot. But he always stiffened whenever she embraced him—whether it was after a battle or on a whim—so Elizabeth always assumed Meliodas had an issue with touching (but not huge enough to push her away or tell her to stop).

Now, though, Meliodas isn't hesitating. He is holding her like he never wants to let go, like this is the only place he wants to be; the only place he's wanted to be, for a long time.

Feeling a tug at her heart, along with a pleased warmth at the touch, Elizabeth squeezes her hand around his shoulder and slides her other hand up the back of his arm. Meliodas sighs, then shifts to nuzzle his cheek against hers again.

"I can't ask you to stop being who you are, I know that. And I wouldn't want to, anyway. Because the truth is," he smiles shakily, almost into her skin. "No matter what I say, I love that about you most of all. And I'd do anything to protect you, anything you ask of me, you know that."

Elizabeth nods into his shoulder, her tongue like cotton. Of course she knows that, because she does the same, would _always_ do the same for him—

"So let me ask this of you, just this once."

Meliodas lifts his head and looks into her eyes, his gaze still black even as his mark shrinks. He gently grasps Elizabeth's cheeks and tilts his face towards hers, the proximity making Elizabeth squeak. _Oh damn it all—_

"Please care about yourself, just a little, when you're out there. Remember, you have people to come home to—your friends, your sisters, and...and me," he says, as if after holding a breath. "No matter what, you will always have me."

 _Oh, no. Don't tell me that._ Elizabeth feels her hands sliding to Meliodas' chest and curling into his tunic, pulling close and not pushing away, like how a proper goddess should do.

(Note: Elizabeth has never been a proper goddess.)

"Elizabeth, I would follow you anywhere," Meliodas murmurs, barely a breath from her lips. "So, please, don't go where I can't follow."

"I...I...I…" _Say something, you idiot_ , Elizabeth screams at herself. Because she has to say something to this, right? That's how the stories go. She has to respond. But what can she say when her voice has failed her? What's the right thing to say, to do?

Elizabeth meets Meliodas once more, captured by the look in his eyes, the fear, the love, the _longing_ —and she realizes one simple truth, one that's driven all her decisions up to this point.

 _Ah, heck. I've never done what's right...just what feels right._

That's enough to steel her nerves, to tighten her grip on his shirt and close the distance, her eyes shutting as their mouths meet.

The first kiss is nothing like how the romances, or even the fairy tales say. There is no spark, no fireworks, no burst of stars behind eyelids. It is a simple meeting of skin and flesh, warm and soft and tentative.

And yet, as Elizabeth parts to regard Meliodas—whose eyes have widened, red splashed along his cheeks—she feels her being tingle with a sort of magic, one that coaxes her to kiss him again. Carding one hand through his hair, she moans into his mouth and kisses him just a bit more greed and zeal, and absolutely no finesse.

Elizabeth feels a twinge of panic then, especially with how Meliodas has stiffened against her. What was she thinking? She's not experienced in this stuff at all, in love or being loved, let alone _kissing_ ; and it is likely bleeding through her movements. She must be doing it all wrong. No wonder Meliodas isn't—

Warm hands wrap around her hips and hoist her on the desk, the impact making her gasp from him. Meliodas groans and dives into her, his kiss deep and searing, his hands moving to her waist.

 _Oh._ Elizabeth whimpers as she parts her mouth, allowing Meliodas to taste her, slide his tongue over hers. _Oh, okay._

Apparently, she did do something right. So right. _Very_ right. **Incredibly** right, _Oh gods._

With her mind clouded and her knees feeling a little weak, Elizabeth wraps her arms around his neck and kisses Meliodas back with all she has. Meliodas moans into her mouth, his hands quickly moving to unfasten the snaps of her vest, itching to touch more. As soon as more of her neck is revealed, he dives in to start licking and mouthing at skin.

And as Meliodas focuses on a spot that makes her arch her neck and moan, desire overwhelming her senses and smothering any other reason, Elizabeth realizes how far up the creek she is without a paddle.

 _This is bad_ , she thinks as she wraps her legs around his hips, drawing him between her thighs, where the heat is pulsing most.

 _So bad_ , Elizabeth gasps as Meliodas rips her bodice apart like it's paper, exposing all of her to chilled air, reaching one hand so he could squeeze and rub one full breast. She moves her hands to take her nails behind his shoulders, needing him closer.

 _Incredibly bad_ , Elizabeth turns her head to lay open mouthed kisses on Meliodas' neck, softly murmuring his name and saying, "Please, don't stop."

And while Meliodas does pause his ministrations, long enough to gulp audibly in Elizabeth's ear, he nods his warm cheek against hers and turns to slant his mouth over hers. Elated, Elizabeth uses her trembling hands to rip at his shirt, itching for his skin against hers.

Next thing Elizabeth knows, she is on her back, the desk smooth against her even with her folded wings. With her bare breasts plush against his chest, Meliodas strokes his hands up her still clothed thighs and pulls her closer, his own desire prominent near her own. Elizabeth squeezes around his arms, feeling a thrill at the tension in his muscles, and squeezes her legs around him with an eager moan.

 _Oh, this is absolutely terrible_ , she thinks as her bottom lip is deliciously drawn to teeth in a light nip, as Meliodas growls against her. _I haven't even told him yet, that I...that I—_

"Ellie?"

 _...Crap._

Elizabeth freezes, just as Meliodas lifts his head and stares down at her, his eyes wide. Then, with a sharp gasp, he immediately jumps from her as if she's on fire. Elizabeth slowly sits up, leaning shakily on her palms, and she stares at him. Her eyes widen, their gazes locked.

She tries to speak, low and rough but also soft, "Um."

Another knock, louder and harder. " _Ellie._ "

"J-j-just a minute, Veronica," Elizabeth stammers, before shuddering. Blushing bright, she lifts her arms to cover herself, remembering her half-naked state. Knowing her bodice and vest were basically ribbons at this point, she looks around the study frantically. She has to have spare clothes in here, right? _Right_? "Oh, _bollocks._ "

"Damn it," Meliodas hisses at the door before picking up the dark jacket he threw in his anger, and going back to her. "Here, put this on."

Elizabeth blushes harder, but nods. The jacket isn't as long as it is on him, but her slim arms slide through the sleeves without resistance, and it wraps around her as she fastens it closed, snug but not tight. The wool immediately warms her, but then she realizes. She looks to Meliodas, worried.

"W-what about...?" Elizabeth makes a little gesture to his stretched shirt, eyeing the rips along his collar, the light red marks along his neck, remnants of her frantic licks and nips; she licks her lips, nervous and still tasting his skin. _She_ did that. She did that to _him_.

What else could she do...?

Meliodas shrugs, his mouth quirked up. "I'll just say that this is from yesterday. No big."

Elizabeth is not sure that would work, but nods anyway. No matter what, Meliodas is always clever and quick on his feet when it comes to a cover. She moves to stand, only for him to put a hand up, stopping her.

"Hang on, you..." His cheeks redden, his eyes focusing on a spot on her neck, and Meliodas takes in a deep, shaky breath. A little more composed, he moves to pop the collar of the coat over Elizabeth's neck, clasping it closed. Satisfied, Meliodas nods and stands back. "Okay, better."

Elizabeth gives him a look, then stands up. She quickly smoothes down her mussed hair and rubs at her still burning cheeks. She then inhales deep, then exhales as much, until she can square her shoulders. She's a goddess, the ultimate epitome of poise, grace, and above all else, _virtue_.

No way anyone, _especially_ one of her older sisters, will be able to realize how close Elizabeth was to basically offering herself on a silver platter, or in this case a _desk_ —

 _Oh, I am so doomed._

Biting back a whimper, Elizabeth casts a glance at Meliodas—who already has his arms folded behind his back, is standing up straight and looking cool as a cucumber, which Elizabeth finds so _unfair_ —and feels reassurance steel her, like the comfort of his back against hers in a battle, the feeling that she can do _anything_.

 _So doomed_ , Elizabeth thinks again before clearing her throat and saying, "Come in!"

"Hey, Ellie, I just wanted to talk about yesterday—oh." Veronica pauses as she steps in, focusing narrow amber eyes on Meliodas, and she tilts her head. " _You're_ here...?"

Elizabeth flounders, heat rushing to her cheeks as she searches for a perfectly reasonable excuse for Meliodas to be in her study. There are a lot, really, since she and he spend a lot of time here planning how to proceed in upcoming battles and reviewing tactics (which Meliodas is _amazing_ at, Elizabeth can't help but notice). However, under Veronica's scrutiny, she suddenly finds it really, really hard—

"Coincidentally, I was also discussing what happened yesterday," Meliodas speaks up, his voice carrying some bite as he sends Elizabeth a look—one very much implying they weren't done with this argument yet—before coolly regarding Veronica.

Veronica stares, first at him, then at Elizabeth. She blinks slowly, once, and then smirks wide.

"'Discussing'," she quotes, a pointed look to Elizabeth, who blushes. "Is that what you two are calling it...?"

 _Ah, she totally knows!_ Elizabeth squeaks, not trusting herself to speak. Luckily, Meliodas steps in front of her and puts himself in Veronica's sight, locking hard eyes with hers.

"Yes," he says, casual but also very cold. "That's all."

Veronica stares at him, her expression stony. Only when she shifts her gaze back up to Elizabeth—who is all red and regarding Meliodas the way she always does, perhaps longer than Veronica has noticed, like he's the world—does Veronica defrost. She smiles softly at her sister, feeling something heavy but also light twinge at her chest, like an acceptance of loss.

Then she shrugs, going back to casual.

"I'll leave you to it, then." Veronica turns to walk out, then pauses, looking at Elizabeth, "I'll see you tonight, Ellie. Margaret is making your favorite soup, so you can't miss it, okay!"

"O-okay."

The door closes, leaving Meliodas and Elizabeth alone again.

 _...Oh._

Elizabeth feels a lump in her throat as she looks at Meliodas, who turns to look back at her. His expression is overall blank, except his eyes—his eyes that regard her with a _look_ she knows now, a look she can name, but still blushes furiously under—and his arms loosen to hang on either side of him, hands clenched. Licking her lips, she stares at him, her own hands clenching and loosening. What should she do now? What should she say?

"...It's getting late. I think I'll go."

"W-what?" Elizabeth says, her eyes gleaming and wide at Meliodas. "B-but, I—"

Meliodas watches her, with a resolved expression that makes Elizabeth ache, and she realizes she can't let him leave. Not like this.

"You should stay, for dinner, tonight!" She spits out, shakily attempt at a smile. "I-I mean, we don't serve meat usually, but we have fish and, and I'm sure we can find something good for you, and—"

"No. No, I shouldn't." Meliodas pauses, and then smiles. "But thank you."

Elizabeth opens her mouth again, but the lump in her throat makes her choke. She places a hand over her chest, the space where the ache is particularly piercing, clenching into the jacket he's letting her borrow. A slow horror falls on her. She messed up, beyond being reckless and troubling him to rescue her, and everything is just _ruined_. That's why he wants to leave. She chews her lip, feeling the ache rise to her throat, her eyes burning with unshed tears.

"Wait, no—Elizabeth."

Meliodas places a hand on her other arm, his thumb rubbing into the crook where her arm and elbow meet. The action grounds her, coaxes Elizabeth to blink and look at him again. He smiles up at her, this time with some humor and a lot more warmth.

"I'm just going back to the inn, to sleep. It's been a long day, you know. But I'll see you tomorrow, okay."

"...Oh," she says, feeling silly but also still worried. "Um, o-okay."

He looks at her again, his smile widening to something impish, and says, "You should keep the jacket."

Elizabeth falters. "H-huh?"

"It looks good on you."

 _You'd look even better on me—oh sweet Goddesses,_ _ **no**_ _, I can't ever say that. I would die._ Elizabeth bites harder on her bottom lip, making it more red and swollen than before, and her heart hammers. Meliodas follows the movement, his gaze darkening with a predatory sort of hunger, and his tongue lightly swipes the corner of his lips. Elizabeth blushes hard.

"I should go," Meliodas says again, a tone lower, a voice full of promise. A promise of what could happen if he doesn't leave.

Elizabeth squeezes her thighs together, suddenly feeling too warm in her formfitting pants and aching too much. But she nods, shakily and hesitant. Because as much as she really, _really_ wants to, she knows she's not ready. Not yet. But she wants to be, soon.

Meliodas nods in turn and then slowly turns towards the door. He lingers a moment longer in the doorway, gives Elizabeth one last look, and then leaves. The sound of the door closing is a soft sound, but it weighs heavily as Elizabeth finds herself alone.

That's when it all hits her—the argument, Meliodas' confession, the kiss, the chaos happening inside her body and mind and possibly even soul, what it all means for her now—and Elizabeth feels her eyes widen.

 _Oh._ Near breathless, she once again leans against the edge of the desk. _Oh, bloody hell._

* * *

If there's any principle Meliodas has ever clung to, it's that of control, especially over one's composure. And for a demon whose life was all rage and blood and violence, and the desire to basically take over the world, control was key. Can't really be a force of pure evil if you lose it all the time, right?

So, when Meliodas walks out of Elizabeth's study and walks through the military compound, he is wearing a smile. Wide, warm, friendly, and the perfect mask. He continues to wear this face as he walks through the central city of the realm, right to the inn where he has been staying for the past year or so since turning his back on the Demon Clan.

Once he shuts the door, the mask shatters like glass to the floor. Meliodas doesn't mind, he can always make another.

"Hey, crone," he announces as he nearly stomps to the rather empty bar. "You better have something stronger than ale tonight, and lots of it."

A portly old woman, not a goddess but also not _human_ (Meliodas has honestly given up figuring her out), pauses in cleaning the glasses in her hand. She releases an almost hissy, knowing cackle and turns to give him a near toothless grin. Her glazed eyes nearly bulge from her head, full of laughter and this _knowing_ that pisses Meliodas to no end.

"Rough night, little prince?"

Meliodas scowls as he sits on a stool, and he props his cheek on his palm. "More like rough lifetime. What you got?"

Without bothering to check her stock, because she never needs to, she says in a light accent, "Just got an import of fairy whiskey this mornin'. Very rich, but 'll put some hair on even yer chest."

"I'll take it."

"Glass or bot'l?"

Meliodas narrows his eyes, glaring into the grain of the bar, his free hand tracing circles into the wood. "Bottle."

"Com'n right up," she says. With a wave of her bony, calloused hand, a huge bottle appears. Inside it is a brown liquid that smells of spices and sweetness, and it assaults Meliodas' nose like a wall to the face. It smells like it will taste terrible, all burn and sickening, even as his mind dulls in a drunken stupor.

 _Good. It will do perfectly, then._

Meliodas wastes no time in opening the bottle and downing the whiskey in several steady gulps.

The old barkeep stares at him, blinking wide eyes. "Crikey, a _really_ rough night, then?"

The bottle now empty, Meliodas nearly slams it down on the bar. From a fringe of wild blonde, he glowers at her and just says, "Get me another."

It really hits him when he's on the third bottle, grasping it by the neck and spinning it around, watching as the brown liquid swirls into a near whirlpool.

 _Motherfucker, I actually fucking said it_ , Meliodas realizes, feeling his hearts give a painful seize then jump start into a marathon.

He actually fucking did it, said the thing he swore he'd never say, and worse during a fucking argument. And that's not even the worst of it—she kissed him. Elizabeth kissed him, and it was so clumsy and zealous and lacking so much skill, and _perfect_. Then, of course, he kissed back. And they kissed and kissed, until they almost, almost—

 _Shit, what did we almost do?_

HA, stupid question. Meliodas nearly laughs. He knows what almost happened, what he totally wanted to do to Elizabeth on that damn desk. After all, it's something he's imagined doing before, when he and her meet up to talk tactics and war and _it almost actually happened_. Just the way he dreamed about too, too often for any sane man. With how she kissed him and touched him, and _wanted_ him, Elizabeth was right in his grasp and, and—

And it didn't happen.

Not only because Veronica interrupted, but also because Elizabeth still looked so shocked and at a loss, even with her face all red and eyes glazed with desire. And despite everything Meliodas didn't want to push, didn't want to corner her with his feelings while she hadn't even answered for hers and he didn't want to lose himself to hope, especially when rejection was still such _real_ possibility—an even worse one now, because he actually knows what Elizabeth tastes like now, how she _feels_ , and _shit, I completely fucked up_.

And he still has to face her tomorrow, possibly act like tonight never happened. _Fantastic_.

Meliodas groans and slams his face onto the bar. Then he lifts his head and slams it down, again and again, and _again_.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," he grinds through teeth with each impact.

That cackle again, knowing and harsh, but also lacking cruelty. "Love confession didn't go so ideal, it seems."

And despite his snarl, Meliodas doesn't stop. "Shut. Up."

* * *

To review: this isn't the first love confession a goddess has received. Goddesses are creatures of beauty, mystery, and wonder for many a species—except, well other than the few exceptions, those from the Demon Clan. For the Goddess Clan, a love confession every decade or so is basically par for the course, especially from mortals.

At her most graceful and holy, a goddess will politely reject such passions, even if she returns them in some fashion, choosing instead a typical immortal life of chastity and piety.

At her cruelest, a goddess will take advantage of such emotions, especially if the one who loves her is of use to her.

As you can see, Elizabeth is neither graceful nor cruel. In fact, while she enjoys the romances of others, she's pretty oblivious to such matters when it comes to herself—including her own feelings. So, when she's home hours later and taking a particularly cold bath, it all really hits her like a brick to the face, and... _well_.

Elizabeth gasps as she pokes her head up from the tub of cold water, her face still very much burning as much as the rest of her, and she shuts her eyes. She sees his smile, hears his voice, remembers the scorching feeling of his lips, his _touch_ —

" _Because_ _ **I'm in love with you**_ _, you idiot of a goddess!"_

A whimper works her way up to her throat, and Elizabeth has to dunk her head back down under the water, her wings spread wide and anxiously tight from her bare back. There's no way she can face Meliodas again after tonight, not without losing her mind and saying things, or worse, _doing_ things to him and _UGH_ , because really, _How dare he do this to me_.

(Worse question: _Why did it take me so long to realize he, that I, I, I—_ )

Elizabeth lets out a muffled, drawn out scream under water, her heart pounding and her blood still thrumming with _love_ and _want_ and the mad realization of how _doomed_ her life has become.

 _S-s-stupid demon!_

Somewhere in the huge house, Margaret and Veronica are setting up the table. When they hear a muffled, piercing sound from Elizabeth's room, they share a look across the table.

"What do you think that's about?" Veronica asks.

Margaret pauses, blinking thoughtfully at the ceiling. "I think she just figured it out."

"...Seriously? I thought they were _already_ having a love affair."

"Well, _apparently_ , that's news to her."

"Ugh, that stupid demon," Veronica grumbles, running a hand through her hair. "He should have told her the minute he helped us rescue her from the Demon King."

"And she should have realized her own feelings when she fought the Elders for his right to stay here," Margaret adds.

"I think we can alls agree," an elderly woman steps into the dining room and sits at one end of the table, wearing a worn black dress with a crooked, black pointed hat. Her white hair is tied in a painfully tight bun, and her diamond blue eyes are rather dry and just _done_. "That these two are absolutely the most idiotic love story to ever be told on this side of the 'verse."

Margaret and Veronica blink at the woman, then share a wry look. After a thought, they start nodding to each other, their wings sagging at the realization.

Just then, Elizabeth lets out another scream, one that is thankfully muffled by the walls of the house, even as the house shake from the pitch. The three women stare at the ceiling.

"Granny?" Veronica asks, suddenly.

"What?" The old woman asks.

"Is it too early for us to get white hairs?"

Margaret snorts. "Please, we'll be lucky enough to get out of this without getting a heart attack."


	2. Carpe Diem

Many of you asked, and I decided to deliver...oh god. What have I done?

Warning: Not as sinful as the first part, contains mild sort-of spoilers. Also, more surprise guests!

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Seven Deadly Sins. Nor do I make any profit from this fic.**

* * *

When Elizabeth wakes up the next morning, it's with a sense of numbness—not so much physical, but emotional, mental—one that draws her eyes wide open, staring blankly up at her ceiling. She blinks once, twice, and maybe a third time, just for good measure. Though Elizabeth is now too awake, she doesn't sit up just yet. She instead turns to her window, a huge span of glass curtained by a soft velvet of royal blue, and looks out at the clear sky. She basks in the warmth from the sun for just a moment—and everything comes back.

 _Oh. My—_ She draws her quilt over her face, just over her nose, as red rushes to her cheeks. Elizabeth muffles a squeal and closes her eyes, taking in a few deep breaths.

Okay. It's okay. It's a new day. A brand new dawn in the Goddess Realm. A fresh start, a chance to reflect on past events with a new perspective.

Meliodas is in love with Elizabeth. Let's start there.

Elizabeth sits up straight, drawing her quilt down. Her eyes are still wide, but fiery, confused but determined as her hands clench in her lap.

"How...?" She says out loud. " _How_."

Because it still just isn't computing. Meliodas in love...with _her_?! Elizabeth is wondering if she heard right yesterday, because that still feels so... _impossible_. All she's ever done since they met is trouble him—at first intentionally, because that's just what you do to someone you consider an enemy, but later on unconsciously—and just piss him off, in general.

The first year they started being...well, sort of friends, he only addressed her as "Goddess" or "idiot," or any other word that wasn't her name. Any other attempts at being friendly—including casual touches to his arm, or even playful punches—was often met with Meliodas basically hissing and pulling away from Elizabeth, his eyes black and glaring. Meliodas didn't start addressing Elizabeth until after she gave him his first _ever_ birthday present—a weeklong trip to some part of the world, somewhere beyond Britannia; a present that he enjoyed so much (despite his flustered protests and rather prickly nature) that Elizabeth decided to take Meliodas somewhere different every year from then on—and even from then, him calling her by name was rare (for a little while at least).

Sure, things became different from then on. Their relationship improved, for one, from being one of vitriol to something amiable. Meliodas started actually _smiling_ —starting from a painful, hesitant half-grin to a smile as warm as the summers where they traveled—and he actually seemed to enjoy Elizabeth's company. Their banter, while carrying snark, was friendly and even exciting. Even their occasional spars became moments of friendship, rather than rivalry.

Meliodas' attitude towards the world changed also, and as a result, brought about a change within himself. The more Meliodas realized he didn't always _have_ to be monstrous to get what he wanted, or to be happy, the more he looked less...miserable, really. The more he learned about the world he'd been told he _had_ to conquer, the more he grew to enjoy it as it already was. The more he learned about Elizabeth, the more they learned about themselves and each other, the more they grew to trust one another—even care for one another. Meliodas soon came to learn, he had a _choice_ to be whoever he wanted to be, to figure out who he wanted to be—something he didn't really get, being not only a demon but the eldest son of the Demon King.

(Which, really, was all Elizabeth wanted for Meliodas—not so much to change, because that's something she couldn't and didn't want to force on him, but to realize that he had choices available to him, decisions that he could reach out and grab for himself.)

Even so...him falling in love? With _her_? The goddess who used to clash swords with him, meeting his every threat with one of her own? A goddess who, for a good portion of her life, had stood as an obedient soldier with very little thoughts of her own? A goddess who's biggest personal accomplishment is quitting her rank as a Lieutenant to become a Healer—a move that earned her sneers from her former teacher and other goddesses of the realm? A goddess who, despite her experiences in fighting and even getting her own hands dirty, is still rather naive to a lot of things about the world? A goddess who, in all honesty, is utterly, _horrifically_ ordinary?

No. No way. Elizabeth is certain Meliodas doesn't mean what he said, that he was mistaken, that she misunderstood—

 _Hang on._

—That doesn't make sense either. Meliodas is guarded, sure, often frustratingly so; but Elizabeth's time with him has helped her learn of certain tells, ways to reveal whether he lies or not. And while Meliodas has felt conflicted about certain things, especially in his past, he rarely falls into such conflict these days. He knows what he feels, he knows who he is, and what he wants; at his most honest, there are no ambiguities.

And even without him telling her yesterday, Elizabeth has sensed a change between them for a while now. They are still close, incredibly so now that Meliodas has switched sides; but with a strange, crackling tension between them now, too. One that's present when they're alone together, even if it's just them talking, or when they're fighting beside each other (even saving each other), or barely brushing hands. Like earlier said, there have even been moments where Elizabeth will look at Meliodas and be briefly locked in a gaze that holds a secret—something wonderful but also full of a sort of pain—one that leaves her flustered in more ways than one, in ways she didn't understand until _Oh god, last night_.

Oh, yeah. Elizabeth kissed Meliodas; Meliodas kissed her back—and then some. So, there's that.

"...Oh," Elizabeth breathes, placing three fingers on her mouth while her free hand cups her stomach, her insides fluttering so much she feels like exploding. She can still feel the burn of his mouth, can remember how he held her, tender and wanting and—"Oh, _wow_."

Meliodas is in love. With her.

 _Oh. My. Goddess._

"...It truly took you this long to figure it out."

Elizabeth looks up from her lap to see Margaret in her doorway. The older goddess regards her with a flat expression, though there is some warmth in her brown eyes, and then slowly shakes her head.

"Almost two-hundred years old, and you are still hopeless," she says, then rolls her eyes. "You _both_ are."

"...Wait," Elizabeth says, narrowing her eyes. "You knew?"

Margaret quirks a brow in answer.

"You _knew_!"

"From the very beginning," she confirms.

Elizabeth feels her jaw go slack, and then shakes her head. "Th-the beginning?!"

Margaret smiles, warm and a little amused. "Don't you remember? When you and the other Healers had been taken prisoner?"

Much to her great displeasure, thank you very much.

About a year and a half ago, the Demon King apparently ordered the capture of all the Healers in the clans' regiments; the idea was that if the demons took away their means of healing and medical treatment, it would be that much easier to take out enemy numbers and gain leverage over the Holy War.

Elizabeth still remembers being captured by Derriere and Estarossa, still remembers witnessing many of her sisters being slaughtered or dragged away in shackles. And she remembers being dragged out of a prison cell by two other demons, Aranak and Zeno, for questioning—i.e. painful torture and death, if not something _worse_.

The only reason she, and the other Healers were saved was...

( _"...I can take her from here, you two. Go back to your posts."_ )

 _No. No way._

( _"I don't need two escorts for one pathetic goddess, get real."_ )

 _Not since back then, right?_ Elizabeth wonders, momentarily lost in her memories. _That just...how..._

( _"...Have it your way then."_ )

 _Did I just not see it...?_

"Meliodas snuck us inside to save you all, killed two of his own, turned his back on his entire clan, and has probably done a lot more—for you, _because_ of you," Margaret says, her smile now wry, almost a smirk. "If he's been trying to be subtle, he's doing terribly. Horribly. Miserably, even."

Elizabeth stares.

"Truly, it makes me sick just thinking about it—not because I _don't_ approve or anything, though I can't say I entirely do either—but because he's just been so...blatant."

Elizabeth keeps staring, her head tilting. "What."

"He protects you in battle, even worries for you out of it; he gets you stuff you ask for, even before you ask," Margaret starts counting on her fingers. "You're the only person he really talks to, let alone smiles at; wherever you go, he's usually following; oh, and then there's—"

A half-awake Veronica pops up into the doorway, her voice muffled by the toothbrush in her mouth, "The fucking _pining_."

At this, Elizabeth sputters, "Th-th-the _what_."

"Pining," her elder sisters say.

"Lingering stares across the room, during either parties or meetings, or when he visits here," Veronica pauses to spit into the cup in her other hand, then quirks a brow at Elizabeth. "Usually when _you're_ too busy to notice."

(Elizabeth feels the burn of green eyes as she speaks to one of the Queens from Britannia—from one of the kingdoms the Clans want to forge an alliance with—but when she glances to him, Meliodas is already turning his head, his posture going stiff. She frowns around the glass of champagne she's drinking, her eyes softening with concern.)

 _I...I...what?!_

"His hand sometimes lingering a little _too_ long on your shoulder when you two are talking," Margaret says, her look pointed and just a bit too accusatory.

 _What_. Elizabeth places a hand on one of her shoulders, her eyes narrowing in memory. Meliodas _does_ do that a lot. In fact, while he rarely hugs her, he does tend to brush his fingers along her arm—especially when Elizabeth feels stressed or just horrible in general.

S-still, though. That doesn't mean—

"The way he smiles at you," Veronica can't help but add, her eyes rolling. "Or the way he gets lost in talking to you, like you're the only person in the room—"

"—maybe even the world," Margaret interjects.

"The pining," they finish, very sage-like and absolutely _terrible_.

Elizabeth gapes at her sisters for another moment, her mind still catching up— _I am not that oblivious...am I?!_ —and then snaps her mouth shut, her eyes hardening. She promptly stands from her bed and puts her hands up.

"Okay, Veronica, Margaret, I appreciate you two. I really do. But this is too much for this early in the morning. I haven't even had coffee!"

Despite the flat expressions on her sisters' faces, along with a synchronized quirk of an eyebrow, Elizabeth walks across her room and starts looking through her closet.

"In fact, I'm going to get dressed, get breakfast, head to Nanny's, and, and—"

Elizabeth thinks of Meliodas, and his small smiles, sometimes awkward but also sweet. She thinks of his eyes and how they glow, even while being his natural dark. She thinks of holding him, of all the times she's realized that he's not just _someone else_ , he's important. She thinks of talking with him, laughing with him, the joy they both get in discovering something new about the world and her many dreams of an _after_ with Meliodas, once the Holy War is over.

In this moment, this very small moment, Elizabeth thinks of all of that, of last night, and more—and really, there is no conflict, no surprise. There never really has been one. Because she made her decision long ago, even before she felt the courage to face it.

"...And he and I are going to talk," she finishes, her mouth spread into a smile. Elizabeth feels something bubble inside her and she looks back at her sisters. "Thank you, really."

Margaret smiles warmly, while Veronica does a mock bow.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you very much," Veronica croons with a cat-like grin and starts walking down the hallway, arching so she's still in view of the doorway. "I'm here 'til Thursday. Try the veal."

Elizabeth snorts and shakes her head. Then she turns back to her closet—

"Dearest, before you go out..."

—only to twirl on her heel, blinking back at Margaret, who is smiling wider now, her shoulders hunched and cheeks flushed. She chews her lip a moment, bites back a giggle, then clears her throat.

"Make sure you wear a scarf, or put on makeup maybe?" She gestures to her neck and part of her collarbone, her brown eyes gleaming with humor, despite her stony expression. "Possibly around this area?"

Elizabeth opens her mouth, then snaps it closed. With wide eyes, she finally looks into body-length closet mirror and pulls the collar of her nightgown down and— _Oh. STARS._

"Like I said: if Meliodas is trying to be subtle about his desires," Margaret nearly whispers, suddenly right next to her, smirking right in the mirror, "he's doing an _awful_ job."

Elizabeth gapes at the mark of red and teeth at the base of her neck, along with streaks of red near her collarbone—then throws a wide eyed glare at Margaret.

"Why do you always tell me things at the last minute?" She groans and stomps towards her bathroom, throwing her head back to yell, "Why does no one tell me _anything_ , until last minute?!"

* * *

Meliodas doesn't bother opening his eyes, even though he's been awake for a while now. They are still aching from his drinking and the lack of sleep the past couple days—first out of worry for Elizabeth and then _last night_ —and really, he just can't be bothered right now.

But he also knows he can't hide forever. At some point today, Meliodas has to face the consequences of yesterday. The least he can do is face them with something resembling dignity.

In his mind's eye, he sees Elizabeth. He sees her blush, her wide blue eyes, the tremble in her lips as she stared at him the day before—part with fear, disbelief, and maybe a little desire—and Meliodas clenches his teeth. Groaning, he turns on his stomach and buries his face in his pillow.

 _...Maybe today can wait_ , he thinks, stomach churning.

That is how _she_ finds him.

She has returned from a long night of hunting and just running along the plains of Britannia, something that was forbidden from her not too long ago. Though her clothes are still stained with blood and dirt, she doesn't feel bothered to go bathe right away—and so, she takes a peek inside Meliodas' room. Blinking narrow crystal blue eyes, she leans against the doorway and observes him in his weary distraught; she understands immediately.

"So. Love confession didn't go well?"

A muffled groan as Meliodas clenches his hands around the pillow. After a pause, in which she understands more than he probably wanted her to, she quirks a brow, her lips curling into a small, amused smile.

"...Oh? It seems it _did_."

Meliodas lifts his head, his green eyes flaring, and rumbles, "Get _bent_ , Gelda."

Gelda puts up her hands, calm and eyes gleaming. "No need to be so rude, Your Grace. I am simply making an observation."

He snorts, then props his chin on his palm, his gaze going wry as he pastes on a polite smile. "Well, then, if you would be so kind— _get_ _ **bent**_."

 _Oh, please._ Gelda rolls her eyes, though it's with no bite. It's funny, if this was years ago, she would probably be cowering under such a thinly veiled threat. While she didn't know Meliodas well then, she knew his reputation; anyone would have feared for their life with his anger directed at them. It's a good thing Gelda cares little for her life these days.

Anyway.

"I don't understand what you're afraid of," she says gently. "It's clear where Elizabeth's heart lies, at least to me. I'd call last night—from what I can see from you—a great success."

Meliodas parts his mouth to retort, then pauses; with his gaze dimming, he closes his mouth.

"I just...I don't know," he says softly. Meliodas sits up and turns to sit on the edge of the bed, leaning one hand on his clothed knee. "I never imagined it would happen like...well, like _that_."

Gelda blinks. "...Were you ever going to tell her?"

Meliodas presses his lips together and regards Gelda with a hard gaze, not angry but resolved. That's answer enough.

She lets out a long sigh, then crosses her arms, rolling her eyes. Does emotional constipation just run into this family of demons? First there's Zeldris, with whom things had long ended horribly—soon followed by a _brutal_ confrontation with her father over her…"transgressions"—and now, Meliodas. Meliodas, who Gelda had been certain didn't even know what love was, not until she first witnessed him around Elizabeth, and now is being so...so…

Honestly, one wonders what went wrong with Estarossa.

Gelda feels a chilling shudder go through her. _Ew_ , she is not even going to think about _that_. Ever again.

She focuses her gaze back on Meliodas, who is all sorts of confused and scared and maybe even a little hopeful (though he is trying to repress it), and Gelda darts her gaze away. Her mouth draws down into a deep and bitter frown.

"...Trust me, Meliodas. This situation is not so terrible." She forces on a smile, tries not to think of _someone else_. "You and your goddess will be fine."

Meliodas gives her a look, his brow furrowing. "Look Gelda, I—"

Suddenly, the window is pushed open from outside and sunshine floods into the room. Both Gelda and Meliodas cringe at the intrusion and start glaring at the source, when—

"Good morning, Meliodas!" Elizabeth beams, peeking her head inside, her wings flapping languidly behind her.

Meliodas balks, his entire face flooding with red, and then whips around to stare ahead. _Damn it, damn it, damn it—!_

Gelda snorts, while shading her eyes with a palm.

"Sorry, I was going to go through the door, but—oh, Gelda," Elizabeth grins wider at the vampire, and after climbing inside, she strides to give Gelda a hug. "How are you this morning? Have you been eating well? Is everything…?"

Gelda smiles and leans into the embrace, though her hands stay to herself. While she likes the affection the goddess is willing to give, she is still getting used to it. She is getting used to open affection in general, really.

"I'm well, Elizabeth. Just a little…?" Arching a brow, she nods at the still open window.

Elizabeth blinks, and then realizes. Her eyes go wide and she turns to frantically shut the window and draw the curtains closed.

"Sorry! I can't believe I forgot…"

"It's okay. I was just heading to bed anyway." Gelda directs a pointed smirk to Meliodas, who is sitting rigidly on the bed, green eyes wide and round and his hands clenching at the edge. "I'll leave you two alone."

Meliodas gives her one last seething look. _Traitor!_

"Okay," Elizabeth says, her shoulders slumping, but only a little. "Maybe we can talk later tonight? After sunset?"

"...I'd like that, actually. Thank you."

Gelda gives them both a nod, then steps out of the room, closing the door behind her. She stares ahead for a moment, a far off look in her eyes, and then lets out another sigh. Feeling a familiar heaviness that is more than just fatigue, she drags her feet towards her room at the end of the dark hallway. As much as she has grown fond of Elizabeth and even Meliodas, being around them just makes her stomach churn.

Anyway.

Once the door is shut, Elizabeth turns to look at Meliodas, who stares back. Suddenly, with them being left alone, Elizabeth finds that her previous bravado waning. A hot flush floods her cheeks, mirroring the one on Meliodas' cheeks. _Crap_ , maybe she should have just used the door, like a calm and rational person. At least the walk up the stairs would have given her the time to steel her nerves.

Still, here they are. In his bedroom. Alone.

 _So._

Despite her heart pounding, Elizabeth smiles and lifts a hand to wave timidly at Meliodas. "H-h-hey!"

Meliodas swallows, still looking ready to run away, and says, "Hey."

 _See? We're making progress already._

Elizabeth lifts her enchanted purse into view, still smiling. "I brought breakfast! F-from that cafe we go to…? I got you a sandwich."

Meliodas stares.

 _Ah, crap._ She swallows, the heat in her cheeks spiking down her neck. "A-and coffee! You still take it black, right? _Ha_ , what am I saying? Of course you do, I-I mean, I can—"

"Why are you here, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth pauses to blink. _Huh?_

Meliodas regards her with sharp green eyes, and repeats, "Why are you here?"

"I...I wanted to see you," Elizabeth says, bemused. Then her gaze hardens. "No, I _needed_ to see you."

He narrows his eyes, then clenches one hand around his knee; however, he doesn't dismiss her. Elizabeth swallows the nervous lump in her throat and strides over to Meliodas, in slow deliberate steps.

"Meliodas, can we talk? A-about last night? Please."

Meliodas feels something seize in his chest, one that screams for him to deny last night—to perhaps shrug it all off as them being lost in the heat of the moment, for Elizabeth to forget it, to let them go back to "normal"—but he resists the urge. How could he even contemplate those things when facing Elizabeth and her sweet smile, the gleam of her eyes? The truth is that there's a part of him, a part he tried to repress, that is _hoping_. A part that hopes that last night meant something to her, that he means something to her; as more than a friend, a partner, _anything_ they were before last night (and maybe longer than that).

And so, Meliodas gives a curt nod and sits up straight, his gaze not moving from Elizabeth's.

Elizabeth parts her mouth, then closes it; then opens it again. When no sound comes out, she shuts her mouth and presses her lips together in a frown. She glares off to the side for a moment, then shuts her eyes; a deep breath, then two. Then, Elizabeth tries again.

"..."

"..."

"...I'm sorry."

For a fraction of a second, Meliodas feels his hearts give a pang, pained and a little panicked. _It's over, it's_ _ **over**_ _, why did I even—_

"See, I, uh, I had a speech planned," she says with a new tremble to her smile, her hands lacing together over her stomach—as if to hold her insides in. "Like...like a quote from a book, or a poem. Something beautiful and perfect, because...that's something you deserve."

 _...Oh?_

"Before I came, I thought of them—all the books, the poems, the songs, all the perfect words and speeches that would be perfect for this moment—but as I look at you now...all of them fall away. So, you're going to have to put up with my word vomit, I guess," Elizabeth adds with a nervous giggle, her cheeks rosy.

Meliodas exhales a breath he didn't know he was holding, his hearts thrumming in a series of beats that make him feel like he's flying. He watches as Elizabeth sits next to him, her wings folded neatly behind her back, while leaning on the mattress with one palm. She leans close to him, making Meliodas aware of how eye level they are, how she smells, just how _close_ she is in general. _Is...is she…?_

"I have never done this before," Elizabeth says after a pause, her eyes sharp but her smile soft. "I've never kissed anyone before, have never...b-been with anyone before; and I've never been in love with anyone before. So, fair warning: it's inevitable that I will make some mistakes. Very likely _a lot_ , actually, heh.

"But...if you want me," at this, she pauses again to swallow, her blush flooding down her neck. "M-m-maybe we can see where this goes…?"

" _Yes!_ "

Meliodas doesn't mean to shout, his grin wide and his eyes bright and his fists pumped in the air, but he couldn't stop the word. Then he remembers himself, sees Elizabeth blinking with a growing smile of her own, and he leans back to clear his throat. Meliodas bites back his smile as he rubs the back of his neck.

"I mean, yeah, sure," he says with a nonchalant shrug. "That sounds pretty cool."

Elizabeth snorts, then falls into a series of giggles that makes her clench her eyes closed and her shoulders tremble. Meliodas watches her with a soft smile, then leans a little closer.

"So, um," she chuckles, moving a strand of silver hair behind her ear, and then gesturing between them. "Now that we're a…"

Meliodas thinks, his nose scrunching up. Boyfriend and girlfriend sounded too...soon. Lovers, not yet—hopefully soon, but it didn't have to be today. A fling, definitely _not_. Meliodas now intends to keep Elizabeth as long as possible. So, maybe…?

"A thing?"

"Right, yeah, _th-that_." Elizabeth hopes the butterflies in her stomach don't burst open from her, especially as she giggles once more. " _So_ , what now?"

Arching a brow, Meliodas regards her with a hooded gaze. "I think this is the part where we consummate this relationship upgrade with another ki— _mmph_!"

As they fall back on the bed, Meliodas' head softly hitting his pillow and her legs straddling his hips, Elizabeth can't help the smile against his mouth.


End file.
